Mumford Style
by LoveOfLiterature
Summary: Stan's thrown off balance when he accidentally comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone. Style
1. Dust Bowl Dance

_**Summary**__: Stan's thrown off balance when he accidentally comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone. _

_**Rated**__: T for swearing and sensuality_

_**Disclaimer**__: I do not own South Park or its characters. Matt and Tray do, God bless them. I make no money, it's all just for fun. _

_**Warning**__: Contains slash. You have been warned._

* * *

><p><strong>Stan (Mobile)<strong>

**Received Fri 11:32 p**

**can i cum ovr**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Stan (Mobile)**

**Sent Fri 11:34 p**

**Dude, it's almost midnight. Can this wait until **

**tomorrow morning?**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Stan (Mobile)**

**Received Fri 11:34 p**

**no**

Kyle Broflovski let out an irritated breath and rolled his eyes as he carefully placed a bookmark between the pages of his book that he was sure wouldn't get touched again tonight, and put it on his side table before replying to his best friend's texts one more time.

**Stan (Mobile)**

**Sent Fri 11:36 p**

**Okay, but you will have to climb through the **

**window. I don't want my parents to know you're **

**coming over this late at night. **

Now that the waiting game had begun he figured it would be in everyone's best interests if he put some shorts on over his boxers. He also unlocked his window. Stan would probably appreciate that even more than him wearing clothes. His socked feet padded over to his bed and he sat back, relaxing and wondering what was so important that Stan couldn't wait until the morning. It was Friday night. It wasn't like they had school tomorrow. He was _so_ close to finishing his book.

A few minutes later he heard the telltale grunting and rustling that signaled Stan was climbing up the side of his house. It only took moments for the raven haired young man to shove the window open and flop into the room gracelessly. "Thanks for opening the window for your best friend, midget, " Stan panted as he rolled over and got up, pulling his hoodie over his head and throwing it casually into the floor before flopping down on the bed next to Kyle.

"Shoes," Kyle ordered, making sure the size twelve sneakers did not dirty his blanket, "and I am not a midget, you jolly green giant."

Stan pulled off his shoes and threw them in the direction of the hoodie before making himself completely comfortable beside his best friend, grinning, "You're only a couple inches away, Kye. Better drink your milk. And just because I'm eleven inches taller than you doesn't make me a giant. You're just a shorty."

Kyle glared at the jock, running his fingers through his close cropped, tightly curled hair. "So you came over to make fun of me or what?" he muttered tiredly. His best friend's expression faded into one of misery at the incredibly relevant comment. Kyle would've felt bad if Stan hadn't just got done ripping on him.

"I accidentally came out to my parents tonight," Stan finally admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

Kyle felt his brows knit together in confusion. "Dude, they didn't know you're bi already?" The dark headed teenager beside him rolled over onto his stomach and planted his face into his hands before lolling his head back and forth in the negative. Kyle watched the reaction beside his lap and rolled his eyes again before sighing deeply, "And why didn't they know already?"

Turquoise eyes peaked out from between fingers. "Why would I? It's not like I've ever dated a guy before!"

True. It had pretty much been Wendy on and off since the dawn of time. It hadn't even mattered when Stan had told Kyle that he was pretty sure he was attracted to guys in middle school. It hadn't changed anything. Stan had still stuck with Wendy. It was just easier that way, and Stan _did_ like Wendy. Kyle could care less who Stan was attracted to. He was still Stan, his super best friend that would die when he died. They were pretty much stuck together forever.

Kyle actually felt weirder about the fact that he simply wasn't interested in sex, be it with a male or female. He tended to avoid possible relationships. "So how'd it happen?" he asked conversationally, scooting over and pulling down the blankets for his friend to climb under. Stan was obviously staying the night.

The two got comfortable in silence, turning out the lights and facing each other. Kyle's mom had finally gotten him a full sized bed for his sixteenth birthday a year ago. It was nice actually having a bed that could comfortably fit two teenage boys. Cartman had ragged on him for days for getting a fucking bed for his birthday, but Stan had smiled warmly. They both knew the gift would benefit the both of them. Cartman could rag all he wanted. In the end it was a useful gift and Kyle had punched the fat boy in the nose, effectively shutting him up.

"It was fucked up, dude. We were watching a movie and I commented on one of the actors. It was like nothing! But suddenly my mom was giggling and my dad had jumped off the couch, pointing at me in horror. I hadn't even thought! I _never_ watch movies with my parents! It's always you, and you never care what I say…"

Kyle took the dying words to signal the end of Stan's little rant, and the boy took a moment to mull the story over in his mind. "So your mom seems not to care. What did your dad do?" he finally asked.

In the dark Stan snorted. "He asked me a bunch of questions like 'was I sure' and 'what about Wendy' and 'was it because of what he and your dad did in the hot tub', whatever the hell that means. I told him I still like girls. Then he was fine. It sounds like it went well, but dude, it was _traumatic_."

"At least your parents aren't on your back all the time," Kyle answered, "Mom's always asking me when I'm going to introduce her to a 'special someone'. She's even asked me if I was dating you secretly." Instead of the laugh he expected, Kyle was replied with a beat of silence.

"…What'd you tell her?"

"Nothin'. That you were dating Wendy."

"Oh."

Oh? Kyle wondered what that meant. It was the obvious answer.

"You know, if your mom ever gets on your back you can just tell her you are. Dating me, that is. If it makes things easier on you. I know you don't care about relationships."

"Oh…okay."

Fuckin' weird, man. Kyle decided that Stan might actually _be_ traumatized from his accidental coming out.

"I mean we wouldn't actually _be_ dating. It would just be to get your mom off your back…"

Was Stan still rambling? "Yeah…of course, dude." When no more craziness spouted from the darkness in Stan's direction Kyle decided to take advantage of the moment. "Well let's get some sleep, dude. Good night," he muttered and rolled over, putting his back to his best friend.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan laid as still and silent as a rock, wishing he would stop breathing and just _become_ a rock. What kind of stupid asshole was he? The fuck was coming out of his mouth tonight? Was it some kind of special full moon? The Stan-needs-to-spout-off-crazy-shit full moon that only comes once every millennia? He tried to calm his mind by listening to the even breaths of his best friend.

It didn't help that much.

His mind replayed his offer over and over again. Stan wasn't just being a good friend…well he was that _too_, but that wasn't it. Five years of silently ignoring a love for his best friend that was a little more than friendly, that was just being a good friend. Making sure no one messed with Kyle when they first got into high school, that was being a good friend. Not that Kyle needed his protection. The little guy could fight. Making sure all the skanks kept their paws off his best friend, who was obviously not interested in any of them, that was being a good friend…

Who was he kidding?

Stan didn't like all guys. He had preferences. He preferred the five foot two, hundred and ten pound, redheaded, nerdy soccer player kind of guys. He preferred the kind of guys that insisted on doing the right thing because it was right, and was always one step behind when it came to fashion and what was popular, the kind of guys that had to push their black plastic framed glasses up their nose while reading a book.

Stan had to face it. There just weren't too many of those kind of guys in South Park. Hell, the only one he even knew existed _anywhere_ was asleep next to him. And it was just his luck that his preference in guys was embodied in not only his best friend, but his, as far as he could tell, completely asexual best friend.

He was glad that he wasn't as picky with girls. Any girl was okay. He had stuck faithfully by Wendy because she was okay with his sexual preferences and didn't mind that he wasn't ready for sex. The fact that they were both the class presidents and he was captain of the football and soccer teams probably didn't hurt either.

Stan realized that he was running his fingers through his long dark hair absentmindedly. It was the one thing Kyle made fun of him for. _Dude, that is totally queer_, Kyle's voice echoed through his head. Stan never mentioned that Kyle did it, too, when he sat in front of him on the couch during movies. He was afraid Kyle would stop.

Stan lifted his head to glance over his sleeping friend at the digital clock. 12:43 am. It was time to go to sleep. The midget would wake him up _way_ too early for comfort. He always did so that Stan could go back to his own house before their parents knew he was gone. He closed his eyes with a fond smile. Kyle was the best friend a guy could have.

If only he wanted more…

...Stan woke to the smell of syrup and veggie breakfast meats. He smiled fondly at the thoughtfulness before jerking awake.

Kyle hadn't woke him up.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle hid his grin when his best friend cautiously crept into the kitchen. He carelessly slid a cup of black coffee at the bewildered boy, still in his jeans and t-shirt from last night. He cut Stan off when he opened his mouth to speak, "I called your mom this morning and told her you were here. She said your dad would drop your truck by when they go to the store. It's piss pouring outside."

Stan nodded dumbly, warming his hands on the hot mug he was holding. The clock on the microwave blinked 9:13.

Kyle busied himself with sliding a plate of pancakes and veggie sausage in his friend's direction, putting the syrup on the counter and rinsing the dirty dishes in the sink. Finally he stood with his own plate across the island counter from his friend to eat. Stan hadn't started yet. He always waited on Kyle. Kyle rolled his eyes and switched their plates so that Stan's was the hot one.

"You'll make someone a wonderful wife one day," Stan joked, pouring a liberal amount of syrup over his entire breakfast.

"Thanks douche, keep an eye out for a good man, will ya?" Kyle retorted, taking the syrup and squirting just a little on the side of his plate. His diabetes kept his sweet tooth at bay. Stan snorted and choked on his food, spitting up his mouthful onto the side of the plate. "Eww, gross, dude!" Kyle scrunched his features and picked up his plate like the choked up food was going to try and crawl its way onto his own plate.

After a moment of indecision the Jew carefully placed his plate back down on the counter, cutting a piece of pancake with his fork and dipping it into the dollop of syrup.

"You know, Rebecca likes you…still."

Kyle looked up at his best friend, fork poised halfway to his mouth. "No offense, Stan, but I'm not interested in Rebecca. I think I'm gonna stay clear for a little while longer. Maybe after college…" he decided firmly, placing the food into his mouth. He thought about how Stan and he had acted when they were younger. It was for the best.

Besides, he couldn't stand being around anyone for any length of time except his family and Stan. Maybe Kenny if he were still around…

He needed to steer the conversation away from himself. He was _really_ tired of their age old Kyle-needs-a-girlfriend argument. "You taking Wendy to junior prom?" He pushed his dry pancake around on the plate, then picked up a sausage and nibbled on it. He was glad that Stan agreed to go vegetarian with him. It helped his diabetes and Stan hated the thought of animals dying just so he could eat a steak.

"Nah, I was thinking I would just go with you, you know? I'm escorting Wendy at homecoming next weekend."

Kyle smirked, "What if I already have a date?" He gagged on his orange juice when Stan looked like he'd grown an extra head. He wasn't expecting the blue-gray eyes to harden, though.

"Who?" Stan demanded, slamming his cup down with a little more force than necessary.

Now it was Kyle's turn to look bewildered. "No one, dude. It was a joke. Jesus." He pushed his glasses up with his finger and peered more closely at his best friend, who was steadily relaxing and reddening in embarrassment. _Something_ was up…

"Sorry, dude," Stan finally apologized, rubbing the back of his neck with an anxious palm, "I was just a little pissed for a minute that you might have kept something that huge from me…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan had thought he was pretty smooth if he did say so himself…up until Kyle and his bombshell; sliding in the prom suggestion like he had. Then he had to go and freak the fuck out when Kyle had suggested he was already going with someone. And the most messed up aspect about it? He had wondered who had gotten through his protective best friend barrier. He wondered who Kyle talked to in all of his AP classes.

He watched as Kyle suspiciously nibbled the sausage after his apology. It was both adorable and annoying. Kyle really needed to eat more. He missed meat sometimes, but it was so much better for Kyle and he hated the thought of those poor animals. He really was turning into a bona fide pussy.

"I have to go to work this afternoon, but I thought we could veg out for a while until then," he suggested, "I was actually gonna come over today and force you to teach me how to rock climb once and for all, but you know, the rain."

The wary expression finally softened his best friend's gray-green eyes into complete calm at the suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds good, " he agreed, bringing his orange juice to his lips and taking a gulp, "I recorded some movie yesterday during school we can watch in the living room. It's supposed to be funny as fuck."

The two finished with breakfast and Stan loaded the dishwasher. He'd practically lived at Kyle's house his whole life. He wasn't even sure when the chores had just overflowed households between the two of them, they just had. Then the boys went back upstairs to Kyle's bedroom. Clothes and showers were necessary.

"I think I'm gonna skip the shower this morning," Kyle muttered once the door was closed behind them, "You can go ahead. I'm just gonna change."

Stan watched as the short redhead pulled his sweatshirt over his head and dropped it into his clothes hamper. His own hoodie and shoes were still untouched under the windowsill. He was such a slob. He did take a moment to look at Kyle. His sweats and boxers barely clung to his bony hips. It would be super easy to shuck him. Then Kyle extricated himself of his sweats and Stan looked away.

He needed clothes for his shower anyway.

He crept around his friend and dug through his drawer in Kyle's dresser, pulling out some clean boxers and a pair of ratty jeans. Sharing clothes had stopped being feasible years ago. With just enough for a shower he stripped down to his own boxers and exited the room.

Stopping only for a towel in the linen cupboard, he quickly claimed the bathroom before Kyle's mother woke up and found him walking the house nearly naked. Wouldn't be a first or a last, but minimizing humiliation was optimal.

He kept the door unlocked in case someone needed to enter. The Broflovskis only had the one bathroom excepting the master, and Kyle and Ike (and Stan) were forced to share the space. Stan carelessly turned the water on and stripped the last of his clothing, stepping into the steaming stream.

It was nice.

It also didn't take long for visitors to make their rounds. First Kyle came in and pissed, not even bothering to acknowledge Stan's existence. Minutes later Ike came in and did the same. At least the kid apologized for intruding. Stan made sure to mumble a reply before the boy left. He was actually glad the two brothers were in and out during his shower. That meant he probably wouldn't have to worry about them when he got out.

Twenty minutes later he was dressed in his jeans and downstairs sitting in front of his best friend on the couch. He hadn't yet bothered with a shirt. He would have to change into a work shirt in a couple hours anyway.

The movie had barely started before he could feel Kyle's fingers absentmindedly combing themselves through his messy hair. Weekends were the best.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle was laughing his ass off. The boy in the movie made the lamest super hero ever. The little girl kicking ass just made it funnier. The movie was actually kind of fucked up, but _Jesus_ it was funny!

It wasn't until towards the end when the girl's father was dying that he realized he was practically on Stan's shoulders. And he only noticed because Stan a shaking ever so slightly. His curious green eyes peeked over his best friend's head to get an upside down view of Stan trying to hide his tears.

"Dude, are you _crying_?"

Stan quickly wiped the minuscule water away from his face with a bare arm. "No! Shut up!"

Kyle was definitely sitting on Stan's shoulders now. "No, you are _totally_ crying!" Stan shrugged, bouncing Kyle off his shoulders, and stood up. Kyle noticed his ebony hair was completely crazy. "So what would your super hero power be?"

Stan slumped onto the couch next to him. "I don't know. What would you give me?"

Kyle thought about it. "Well, you would probably have like a charm speak."

"What? That's totally gay!"

"Hey, it's logical!" Kyle shot back defensively, "You can talk anybody into doing anything. You know it's true! And anyway, it's better than mine. The only thing I can do is spout off random facts. At least Cartman could kill people with his big fat ass. All I could do is bore people to death. And anyway, your power would keep you from having to kill people."

Stan looked less than impressed but seemed to concede. Kyle bristled but remained silent. "Kye, you can do way more than spout off random facts."

"Like what? Be Jewish?" Sarcasm was always his fallback.

"No," Stan sat up straighter and turned towards the redhead. He looked intense, like he was really close to solving one of Kyle's AP calculus problems. "You would be invincible," Stan decided with finality.

Kyle snorted, "Yeah? How so?"

Stan shrugged and seemed to struggle with himself for a minute, scooting closer to his friend, like he was working up an epic speech. Charm speak.

Kyle smiled.

"Well, you're so tough," Stan finally exhaled, "Let's face it, you're a shrimp." Stan halted the words of outrage Kyle was about to spew forth. "Yes you are, don't deny it. And look at you! I'm a foot taller than you and you're about to rip my head off! Also, you don't care what the latest trends are or what's popular. You only care about what's right and what matters. Not like me. You're the smartest person I have ever known. You're fast and pretty strong. So there, you would be invincible," Stan finally finished. Kyle felt Stan's hands gripping his own firmly like he could will the redhead to agree through touch.

"God you all are gay," Ike muttered as he passed through to the kitchen.

Stan dropped Kyle's hands like they burnt him and shot up from the couch. "I gotta get to work," he muttered, bright red, "Uncle Jimbo will be expecting me…"

Kyle opened his mouth to tell Stan he had another hour, but the raven haired teen was already bounding up the stairs four at a time to grab an extra work shirt.

"Fuckin' weird, dude…" Kyle muttered. His face was warm and his hands were stinging.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan tuned the old junky guitar before plucking some strings absentmindedly. The rain was still coming down in buckets. No one was going to come by the pawn shop today. The teen sat back and made himself comfortable on the shabby old office chair behind the counter. He crossed his legs on the counter and settled the guitar on his lap.

He had been thrilled when uncle Jimbo had given him the weekend job when he turned sixteen. Most teens his age were stuck flipping burgers if they had a job. Kyle didn't. His parents refused to let him have one. They didn't want it to affect his grades.

He thought about when Jimbo and Ned had bought the old store together a few years ago. They had taken a big change and it had paid off. Stan wondered if he would grow old with Kyle the way uncle Jimbo and Ned were. He hoped so.

He picked at the strings of the old guitar, making sure it sounded good. Then he started plucking a tune over them as he thought about what an idiot he was. He had embarrassed Kyle. God he was such a douche.

_Yeah Stan, way to go. Grab your best friend's hands and gush about how wonderful he is. That's the way to keep your love on the down low._

The disturbing thing was he had never had trouble with controlling himself before. He blamed his parents. When he had let it slip that he liked guys his parents jumped to conclusions.

_"Stan, do you like Kyle? Is that what this is all about? I mean, he _is_ a little girly…"_ his dad has asked.

_"Oh honey how cute! Getting a little crush on your best friend! He's a good boy,"_ his mom had gushed.

It had been too much. He hadn't even wanted to mention his sexuality to them at all and suddenly they were condoning his and Kyle's imaginary, non-existent relationship. He hadn't even mentioned Kyle. He had totally flipped. Didn't even give them an answer, just rushed up to his room and grabbed his phone.

His parents had always been his mental barrier; the it's-just-not-possible-to-think-of-Kyle-_that_-way blockade. It had been a flimsy excuse, but one he had always safely assumed. He had always figured they would be freaked out that they had grown up together, shared baths when they were little, played together, everything. He was sure they would be horrified that he would ever want anything else with Kyle. He had been wrong.

And that fucked his world up.

His phone vibrated. It was Wendy.

**Wendy (Mobile)**

**Received Sat 2:56 p**

**Hey. Are you free tonight after work?**

Stan sighed heavily. He had broken up with Wendy last week. They were always on speaking terms and their separations were usually short, but he really didn't want to deal with all this right now. It was like Wendy knew when he was having crises and planned accordingly.

**Wendy (Mobile)**

**Sent Sat 2:57 p**

**no im busy srry**

A few minutes ticked by.

**Wendy (Mobile)**

**Received Sat 3:00 p**

**That's fine. I just thought I would give it a try. ;) **

**And btw your texts are horrible. How does Kyle **

**put up with them?**

Stan stared at the offending text. They were goddamned texts, not fucking letters to congress. He got the message across. What was wrong with his fucking texts? Did they irritate Kyle? She sent those sort of messages on purpose. Women were conniving succubi, the lot of them. But the hint stuck in his psyche.

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Sent Sat 3:05 p**

**Do my texts ever bother you?**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Received Sat 3:05 p**

**Who the fuck is this?**

Stan rolled his eyes dramatically. Who the fuck did Kyle think it was? The pope?

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Sent Sat 3:06 p**

**da fuck u think it is da pope**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Received Sat 3:07 p**

**Sorry. You never text in complete sentences. **

**I thought someone had stolen your phone. :P**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Sent Sat 3:07 p**

**Fuck u**

**-l-  
><strong>

**Kyle (Mobile)**

**Received Sat 3: 08 p**

**Dude, don't pay attention to Wendy's jabs.**

The guy was magical. Stan smiled then frowned. This. This was why he was hopelessly in love with the guy. Kyle didn't even have to try to be wonderful. He just did it. Stan fought constantly to keep his status and charm, what little he had. Kyle thought he could talk anyone into anything.

If only.

He wondered why Kyle wasn't interested in anybody. He did occasionally drop hints about girls that were interested in him. Guys were out of the question. And he only hinted at terrible girls. Maybe he just wasn't being fair. Kyle deserved the pick of the litter. The logical part of his brain wished Kyle would date Bebe. Then they could double date. Every other part of him was violently against the very practical idea.

It was all very frustrating. He decided that he needed to speak to his best friend about this right away. He would drive over after work after giving his parents a call to remind them he was alive.

His mind settled, he went back to plucking absently at the strings of the guitar for the remainder of his short shift.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle was a mess when Stan showed up at his house after work. He felt like a complete asshole and didn't even really care. It didn't even register that Stan seemed a little on edge himself. He didn't even let his best friend get his shoes off before beginning with a rant.

"My mom is such a stupid bitch! And dad? He's a traitor! I can't believe he sided with her!" he shrieked at Stan's hunched back, "It's none of their goddamn business what I do and who I am with! Why does it even matter? Is it really _that_ strange for a boy not to want to date?"

Stan finally stood up full and turned around, surprised eyes dipping down to connect with Kyle's withering glare. "Well kinda, dude, but what is this all about? Should you be yelling like that?"

The comment didn't help Kyle's already volcanic mood. He hadn't left the house all day and his energy had the misfortune of taking the form of angry indignation. "It doesn't matter," he spat, "Ike is at his girlfriend's house and my _parents_ are out on a date."

Stan gave the small boy a blank look. "Okay…"

Kyle couldn't help but narrow his shocking green eyes at his best friend accusingly, "Okay? That's all you have to say? You don't care? Dude, weak! You're supposed to be my best friend!" Kyle was really up in his best friend's face now, or as up in his face as he could be. He wanted to bite the solid hands that planted themselves on his shoulders and led him forcefully over to the couch to sit down.

Stan's eyes were serious when he sat next to him. "Kye, what are you talking about? Start at the beginning."

Kyle took a cue from Stan and planted his face in his hands, groaning, the life draining from his fight. "I don't even fucking know, dude. They both just started ranting about how they were worried about me and wanted me to have a full, happy life…"

"Gee Kye, sounds terrible," Stan joked from Kyle's peripheral vision.

"No dude! They asked me if I wanted them to set me up with a 'nice girl'! They even said it was okay if I didn't like girls. Nothing to be ashamed of, they said. Just wanted me to be happy. Then they started offering to set me up with girls from our synagogue. It was horrifying!"

He finally looked up at his friend, who had gone very pale.

"What'd you say?"

"I told um' I'd find a date by prom. That's what? Three weeks away?"

Kyle was more than a little pleased when Stan's eyes became stormy and his face scrunched up with anger. It was about damn time he was properly pitied. "Well that's retarded! What does it matter to them? It's none of their fucking business! You'll date whoever the hell you want whenever the hell you want! God this is fucked up!"

The redhead smiled at his best friend's anger and scooted closer to him, noticing the deep, heaving breathes the jock was taking. Without thought he put his arms around the other teen to calm him down. It always worked. Sure enough, the breathes soon calmed, but he didn't pull away. He could talk this way without having to meet his best friend's eyes. And he knew Stan wouldn't make him pull away. The heartbeat under his ear gave him courage.

"It's not just that, Stan," he finally admitted, "Who the hell is going to date me? I'm a skinny little glasses wearing, geeky, shrimp. I don't want to disappoint my parents by failing to get a date…" There. He said it.

The redhead felt his best friend's heart speed up as his arms enveloped him and pulled him even closer. "Kye, you're so stupid," he heard Stan whisper, and felt him kiss the top of his head. He felt his own heart speed up. Stan had never done anything like that before. He wanted to see Stan's face but didn't want to move. If he were playing chess he'd call it a stalemate. When Stan spoke again he was glad that he had decided to just remain where he was.

"Kyle, you're the most wonderful person ever. Anyone would be the luckiest person ever to date you. You're brilliant, funny, fun, and gorgeous," Stan murmured, gulping against the top of Kyle's head, "You've got my vote."

Kyle really hoped his best friend couldn't see his deep blush. This had to be the gayest thing he had ever done. And he had rolled around with Stan in his underwear.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan's heart was hammering in his chest. It defied all logic that he could feel Kyle's thrumming against his stomach. The deep blush was adorable, too. He was just so caught up in the moment. Was that it? Was Kyle too self conscious to date? Did he think no one would want him? That was the most ridiculous thing ever. He had never even seemed aware of others.

Stan's gut twisted in guilt when he remembered the fourth grade and the cute list. Kyle had been devastated. He had also accepted his status, like he expected it and was just receiving confirmation.

What a stupid Jew.

He let Kyle's blush disappear before removing him from his lap to look directly at him. He wouldn't have ever expected this kind of conversation when he came over tonight. Just a couple of awkward questions covered by friendly humor. Not this. Now came the really _hard_ question.

"Kye, _is_ there anyone you would want to date?" he asked carefully.

The uncertainty was gone from the redhead's eyes and replaced by irritated frustration. Stan watched Kyle actually grip his curls and pull before pulling his knees to his chest and harrumphing. "That's the thing, dude! I _really_ don't! The only person I even want to be around most of the time is you!"

Stan just barely kept himself in check. "You like being around me?" he asked uncertainly, mirroring Kyle's pose on the couch. He was pretty sure if he didn't physically pull himself together Bad Things would happen. Like serious confessions of undying love.

Kyle gave him a look and settled his chin on his knees while he answered exasperatedly, "Duh, retard."

Stan knew he was Kyle's best friend. He could even add a super in the title. They had grown up together. They did everything together. Then, now, tomorrow, the day after that. They would always be together. But what Kyle was telling him was different. There was a difference between having a super best friend and not wanting to be around anyone else. He wondered if Kyle thought anything about that. He was the smart one of the pair. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but one surfaced before all the others.

"Why?"

It must have been a really stupid question to Kyle because he didn't even turn his head on his knees before answering the wall, "You're my best friend."

"Yeah, but what about me?"

Stan couldn't look away from the lip Kyle was chewing. Every time he paused it was swollen and red. His affection was not healthy. "It could help us narrow down potential dates for you," he added, hoping that made his inquiry sound a little less creepy and obsessive.

Kyle's mouth quirked and he shrugged. "I dunno dude. You're everything I'm not I guess…"

Stan stared on expectantly and kept his blush at bay when Kyle growled in frustration a few moments later, "You really wanna know? Fine! You're a leader. When people are around you they are drawn to you, you know? I know I am. And that doesn't corrupt you like it usually does people. You _care_, Stan. You care about people and animals and _everything_. You're patient in a way I could never be. You put up with me and my irrational anger and irritability. I honestly don't know why you are still my friend. And you know what really pisses me off?"

Stan shook his head dumbly.

"You're tall and built for sports. Your hair is soft. I can actually pull my fingers through it! That's what really pisses me off. It's not enough that you are popular and charming, you're good looking, too! How is that fair? How could I _not_ like being around you? Somehow in this godforsaken world, in this godforsaken town, I managed to make friends with you, the only sane, worthwhile living thing around…" Kyle was panting hard now, but coming to an end of his rant. "And that was probably the gayest thing I have ever said, ever."

Stan didn't know when he has scooted over to be directly beside his best friend, well within the bubble that was supposed to exist but didn't between them. He tipped his head over and gently knocked it against Kyle's beet red one. "Yeah well," he murmured, "We're all a little gay…"

He leaned over and planted a firm kiss on his friend's temple.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle leaned into the warmth on his temple. It was the second time Stan had kissed him today, or ever. It felt nice. When the mouth disappeared from his head he found he missed the warmth. His face slid into something between a smile and a grimace. His heart was pounding erratically. His lips suddenly felt too dry and his tongue darted out to wet them.

"Kyle?"

"Hm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Kyle thought about replying with a sarcastic comment about how he already had, but he knew that wasn't what his best friend meant. He wondered for one horrifying second if Stan was testing him. His eyes darted over to see sparkling turquoise. His words died with his thoughts.

The eyes he saw weren't laughing or happy or angry. They were questioning and sorrowful and full of more longing than Kyle had ever seen in his life. And very close.

"Yes."

The look didn't change as he felt Stan carefully place his hands on either side of his face. He watched Stan take a deep breath and close the gap.

The kiss was the gentlest thing Kyle had ever experienced. It was soft and lingering, full of more emotion than such a tiny thing should be able to contain. And it wasn't enough. Kyle mirrored Stan and put his hands on either side of his friend's face, closing his eyes and asserting himself more fully. Stan moaned.

Kyle's rational brain shut down at the noise and before he could logic himself out of anything, he was tugging at Stan's hair, forcing the bigger boy to crouch over him on the couch. And it still wasn't enough. Frustrated with Stan's caution, he snuck a leg under the hovering body for more leverage and eased himself upwards, pressing himself firmly against his best friend's body.

Stan broke the kiss, but didn't open his eyes. "Oh god," he groaned, breathing all of Kyle's air with a pained expression. Kyle was worried he had gone too far, but then Stan dipped his head again and captured Kyle's lips again.

This kiss was not gentle. It was fierce and brutal and full of lust. Kyle thought idly that his lips would be bruised tomorrow. Instead of hovering cautiously like before, Stan dropped all of his weight on the smaller boy below him. Kyle struggled with it a little until he felt his best friend's erection through their jeans. It was _huge_. Just like the rest of his friend. He should have known.

He whimpered.

He knew Stan heard the noise because extra breath was released through his nose as he attacked Kyle's lower lip. He tightened his grip around Stan's chest.

A crack of wood broke them up very suddenly.

Kyle wondered if he looked as wild as Stan did, staring at the surprised expression of his parents. He knew his chest was heaving to match Stan's, and he was probably at least as red.

His dad took the bag his mother had been holding and snuck into the kitchen. His mom pinched the bridge of her nose. "Kyle," she breathed, "You could have just told us…"

He looked over at his friend to see the completely expected face-plant. Great, Stan was going to be no help whatsoever.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about his parents setting him up with anyone.

_**Edit: I went through and edited for errors.** If you see any more errors please let me know. I apologize for not including all the boys. It just wasn't feasible with the short time period of the plot. This started out as a longish one-shot. It has now grown...  
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_Hope you enjoyed it and please review. I'm ashamed to say reviews truly do inspire creation._

_**Edit: I think if enough people review I will add a part two...**  
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	2. The Cave

_**Summary:**__ Stan's thrown off balance when he accidently comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone._

_**Note:**__ This story is about Stan and Kyle. They are the focus so I will not spend _as much_ time with other characters._

_**Rated:**__** T**__ for swearing and sensuality. I will not change the rating to M. If I do include M rated stuff I will clearly label it at the beginning of the chapter. You have been warned. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own South Park or its characters. Matt and Tray do, God bless them. I make no money, it's all just for fun. _

_**Warning:**__ Contains slash. You have been warned._

Stan wasn't sure if he should be nervous as he approached the old sign to the bus stop that had been deemed the friends' meet up spot since the beginning of forever. Kyle was already there waiting for him. The redhead must not have been waiting long because he was adjusting the strap on his messenger bag. Stan breathed deeply a couple of times before calling a greeting.

Kyle's head jerked up in his direction. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the cool, damp air. It had finally stopped raining late last night, but everything was still soggy. The smaller boy didn't wait on him to approach before shouldering his bag again and starting off in the direction of school. Stan had to jog the last few yards to catch up with his best friend.

He made sure to walk directly beside the Jewish boy, letting his arms fall freely by his sides. He hadn't seen Kyle for the rest of the weekend. He had never been so glad for Monday morning to come. After his best friend's parents had caught them on the couch Saturday night Sheila had asked him to kindly leave. When he had tried to text Kyle later he had gotten no answer. After several more attempts he had gotten a message stating Kyle would not be available to reply.

So Stan had taken a double shift at the pawn shop Sunday. He didn't want any free time to ponder his and Kyle's situation too much. The extra hours hadn't worked of course. By the time he went to bed Sunday he was so wound up that he was convinced that Kyle had sent the message and it was just a matter of time before he broke off their friendship for good.

And Stan couldn't blame him. He had practically molested the boy. God he was such an asshole.

"Stan!"

Stan tripped over his feet, recovering just before planting his face into the damp pavement. Kyle was looking at him like he didn't know whether to laugh or complain. "Dude, I've been calling your name for like, five minutes. Did you get enough sleep? We have soccer practice after school."

He shrugged. "Sorry, dude. I've had a lot on my mind," he admitted, giving Kyle a pointed look before turning his attention to the ground in front of his feet. He noticed Kyle's hands were loose at his sides, too, fingers picking absentmindedly at his nails. "So what did your mom do?" He finally asked. He couldn't take any more waiting and Kyle hadn't been forthcoming so far.

"Bout what?" Kyle replied nonchalantly.

"Dude."

Kyle laughed, "You mean after your useless ass left me to the wolves?"

"Hey! Your mom…"

"I know, I know," Kyle smirked before sobering again, "Actually it was pretty weak. So here they've been worrying about 'my happiness' and all that other gay ass bullshit. Then they get what they want and mom grounds me for a week."

"What about homecoming? You're supposed to escort Bebe."

"I can still do all that. I just have to be home right after practice after school and I won't be able to hang out after homecoming. And they took my phone. But Saturday I'll be free."

Stan wondered if this was an invitation or simply a statement. He wasn't even sure what his and Kyle's relationship was right now. Were they still just friends? More? Or something in between? He didn't like the thought of that. He didn't want to share Kyle; he never had. Kyle seemed so calm and untroubled; it pissed him off a little bit.

His eyes darted away from the pavement to look at Kyle's free swinging, gloved hand again. It wasn't really cold enough for gloves, but Kyle _always_ wore gloves. Before he could talk himself out of it he reached over and entwined his fingers with Kyle's. The redhead's hand tensed. Well that answered his question. He dropped Kyle's hand again. "Sorry…" he muttered dejectedly.

Beside him the Jewish boy let out a long suffering sigh and grasped his hand again. Their fingers weren't twined, just hand grasping hand. Stan wondered what that meant.

"Stan, stop over-analyzing," Kyle griped. His face was pinker than it had been earlier. Stan thought that it was both extremely adorable and a good sign. He decided to take Kyle's advice, and the two walked in companionable silence for a while. He relished the feel of Kyle's hand in his own and how his wide stride matched the smaller boy's rushing steps perfectly.

When the school was finally within sight Kyle dropped his hand from Stan's again, but he nudged his shoulder against the taller boy's arm for reassurance. It made Stan think back to what Kyle had said about him being a leader. Kyle thought he was a natural leader, yet he was always seeking reassurance and acceptance from Kyle, and Kyle had come to just anticipate his needs before anything ever had to be said. Kyle had said he was drawn to him, but it was Stan who couldn't do without his best friend. The Jewish boy was just so damn independent and individual. He wondered what that bode for the future as they entered the high school.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, Jew! Enjoy a nice, quiet weekend with your butt buddy?"

Kyle bristled. "Shut up you fat fuck," he quipped. He knew it would only add fuel to the proverbial fire, but he was really tired of Cartman's 'the hippie fag and his Jew' comments. He would have thought that after so many years the tubby asshole would come up with some new material. He hadn't, obviously.

"Hey! Don't call me fat you fuckin' Jew!" Great, another clichéd comeback. He spared only a brief glance to the chubby bastard before rolling his eyes and walking in the other direction, abandoning his best friend to Cartman's solitary company. The threat of guilt kept him from looking at the two boys again. He wouldn't be able to resist any begging looks from Stan. And he was going to be late for class if he didn't hurry.

He pushed through the crowds, finding his locker and kneeling down to grab his AP English book. At the beginning of the year he had gotten a top locker and Stan had gotten a bottom. They had agreed to switch, and it had worked out pretty well so far. His 'new' locker was closer to his own classes and teachers couldn't see into it as easily. There had been several instances where that was beneficial thanks to one Mr. McCormick.

He wondered about his absent friend as he fought the crowds to his first class of the day. Kenny should have been back by now. He dropped his book and folder onto his front row desk and slid into the seat, letting the other few students of his row pass him. It sucked being short sometimes. He was assigned a front row seat in _every_ class. which normally didn't bother him, but he didn't like it in the class he shared with Stan. The jolly green giant was always in the back of the room.

"Hey Kyle," Wendy greeted as she took her seat right behind him, "have a nice weekend?"

Kyle huffed, "No, my parents grounded me…" Hm, should he be talking about that? He hadn't really had time to discuss the situation with Stan that morning. Forget the fact that he had kinda avoided the topic. It was too early for deep, dramatic conversations with one of the most dramatic people he knew. Sometimes Kyle wondered if Stan knew exactly _how much_ he was like his father. A comment like that would probably earn him a punch to a kidney.

"Really? What for?"

That was one thing he liked about Wendy. She didn't rip on him for being grounded at seventeen. Ah but the question… "My parents were on my case about something, and they weren't happy with my attempt to find a solution…So they grounded me for a week." Yeah, that sounded logical.

"Well gee, Kyle, what did you do?" Butters asked, leaning in towards Wendy and himself.

"Fuck you, Butters, I wasn't talking to you," Kyle retorted, eye twitching.

He watched Wendy purse her lips. She was not satisfied with that answer, either. "Kyle, did it have anything to do with Stan?" she asked finally.

"Okay class, open your books to page 347. Today we are going to begin an intensive analysis of Hawthorne's _The Scarlet Letter_." The class groaned collectively at the teacher's introduction.

"Why would you think it had anything to do with Stan?" Kyle hissed between his teeth as he flipped his book open. Behind him, he could hear Wendy doing the same.

"Oh come on, Kyle, you never get in trouble without his help," Wendy muttered back.

"Fine, you can just ask him later if you wanna know so bad," he retorted, glaring at the page in front of him.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Wendy, Kyle," the teacher announced, gaining immediate attention of the two students, "Since you have not volunteered for a part of the story, you are assigned the last two chapters to act out for the class as your project. It will be due next Friday."

Kyle and Wendy let out their own personal groans.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan leaned against Kyle's locker, shrugging at the weight of his backpack. They had second period honors chemistry together. It was one of the subjects that Stan was good enough in to take with his nerdy best friend. It had become a normal routine to look for the curly red head bobbing through the crowd. He was surprised to see that Kyle was attached to another person in the hall.

Well, sort of.

Wendy was attached to Kyle's arm, getting pulled along by the boy as she chatted with him. From the looks of it, the conversation was intense; she seemed to be winning some argument that irritated him from the look of the couple's faces. Stan visibly bristled and decided that it would save time to meet his friend halfway.

"Hey dude!" he called loud enough to gain half the hallway's attention, including Wendy's and Kyle's. His teeth clenched when Wendy whispered something in Kyle's ear and scurried off in the opposite direction towards her next class. Well. Whatever they were talking about obviously didn't include him.

"What was that all about, man?" he asked as his best friend fell into place by his side. He hoped he didn't sound too concerned, because he wasn't. Just interested.

"Oh, nothing," Kyle replied with a shrug, "Wendy and I were assigned to a project together and she is trying to plan it out. Hey I need to stop by my locker. I still have my English book…"

The two stopped. Stan resumed his position against the wall of lockers while he waited for his best friend to swap books. He made a show of looking at his fingernails. "So what is your assignment?"

"We have to act out the end of The Scarlet Letter," came Kyle's muffled voice from inside the locker below him, "It's the climax and she's trying to make all these crazy plans…" he stood up, looking up into Stan's face. "She might ask you why I'm grounded today." And just like that Kyle left Stan against the locker and walked towards class.

Stan sputtered as he caught up to the redhead. "_What_? What should I tell her?" he asked. He was trying to fight the heat coming to his face. He felt a little nauseous as well. He was glad that the halls were starting to clear. He needed the air and space. He hadn't needed his inhaler in years, but he still kept it in his backpack.

Kyle shrugged beside him, "I don't know, dude. She's _your_ girlfriend."

Stan felt his world implode a little. Did Kyle think he was dating her? "Dude, Wendy is _not_ my girlfriend!" He wanted to strangle the little Jew when he saw those green eyes roll in his little midget head.

"Well not right _now_, I hope," he huffed.

Stan's inhaler burned within his backpack. He hoped? What the fuck did that mean? "What the fuck does that mean?" he demanded, pulling at the shorter boy's arm.

"Nothing!" Kyle replied shortly. Anger laced his voice. "I just wouldn't want you to do things you might regret. You can be a little bit of a drama queen," he admitted.

"I am not a drama queen!" Stan shouted, jerking his neck and planting his fists on his hips with a stamp.

"Riiight," Kyle said, disbelieving, "Plus Wendy is not an enemy a guy wants against him. She can be fucking crazy."

Point.

Then he thought about Kyle's statement. Regret something? He pondered the comment as they walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. He stopped when Kyle got to his desk. He knew they wouldn't be able to talk once he sat down. "What would I regret, Kyle?" he demanded quietly.

His best friend looked forward sullenly. "Nothing," he muttered. What was up his ass today? Was it because he got Kyle grounded? He knew it couldn't be about the kiss. He had enjoyed that immensely. Kyle _knew_ that. He willed himself not to blush about _how_ Kyle knew. He just had to prove he didn't regret it.

"Kyle, what if I tell Wendy the truth about why you are grounded?" he asked. He wouldn't do it if Kyle didn't want him to, but fuck he hoped Kyle wouldn't mind. If Kyle didn't want him to tell Wendy about what happened he wouldn't want him to tell _anyone_ what happened. And if he didn't want anyone know what happened then he was probably not amicable to any kind of relationship.

And Stan _really_ wanted to date Kyle.

The foulness was gently replaced with hesitance on the Jew's face. He actually looked up. "Why would you want to tell her?" he asked.

Stan was flabbergasted. He wanted to tell everyone, not just Wendy. "I…"

"Everyone have a seat and open your books to the pages covering chemical reactions. Tomorrow we will be doing experiments testing chemical reactions, so pay attention to the lecture today."

Kyle's eyes left Stan's and began to thumb through the pages of his textbook. Well. Conversation over apparently. Stan groaned and trudged to the back of the classroom where his desk was located.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle glared at his textbook and pushed his glasses up his nose as the teacher lectured about the differences between synthesis and decomposition reactions. He'd read this over the weekend after he'd been grounded. Nothing better to do. Thanks to Stan.

Stan had obviously been jealous to see him with Wendy. It was all about the nonchalance. Stan was direct and intense about everything. He only acted like he didn't care when he was jealous. The bitch of it was that Kyle had figured they were over the Wendy thing. Kyle had even made pretty good friends with her so that they could share Stan's time more efficiently. He had actually wondered if she would be in the picture anymore after…

Apparently he was wrong. He had been foolish to think she would ever _not_ be in the picture. And insane to think he would or even _could_ replace her. Why had he even thought that? Stan had asked him about telling Wendy. Why? _Was_ Stan interested in a relationship? Kyle, himself, had never been in one before. He'd never wanted one before. He thought he did with Stan. He was sure that he was attracted to his best friend now. The very long, boring weekend had given him plenty of time to mull things over.

But his cynical side wondered if Stan wanted to tell Wendy so that Wendy would think he was gay. He couldn't really deny it. He hadn't been too interested in any girls so far. If Wendy thought he was gay she would never try to be with him. Not that either of them wanted that. They had often joked about how gross it would be when Stan wasn't around.

The more he thought about it the angrier he got so that when the class was over he didn't even wait on his best friend before sprinting out the door. He needed a little time to himself. He'd see Stan at practice anyway.

AP Calculus didn't help his bad mood dissolve. It just sort of got worse. He made a point of ignoring Stan during lunch and made a point to sit with _Wendy_. Stan could have Cartman. He hated that asshole anyway. He and Wendy discussed their project a little more and decided that the kiss was incredibly important to the point of the scene. It had to be done. Kyle had only agreed when Wendy said she would put her thumbs between their mouths. The contact was still a little too intimate for his tastes, but it would give them a killer grade.

Weight training at the end of the day helped. He was able to push some of the negativity out with every strain of muscles until he was almost back to a good mood. His mom had been opposed to his taking the class, but he had _assured_ her it was required for soccer. It wasn't, but that wasn't the point. It certainly _helped_ with soccer. He was self conscious about how skinny he was anyway. The class helped him keep some form to his body other than his potential twig figure. Before he knew it the final bell had rung and it was time to prepare for soccer practice.

Since he was already sweaty and in acceptable practice uniform he decided to hunt Stan down for a quick apology for his crappy mood. He grabbed his glasses from the bench beside him, deciding to use them as an excuse. He never wore his glasses during sports. He hoped he could find Stan before they were out on the field. Soccer practice didn't really provide ample time for the ol' heart-to-heart.

His good mood evaporated when he rounded the corner of the locker room to see Stan and Wendy hugging. They broke apart as soon as he came into view, but it was too late; he had seen. He didn't even stick around to listen to the words about to come out of Stan's mouth or comment on the cocky smile Wendy couldn't hold back.

He ran for the field to start laps.

The sweat that caused his loose cut tank top to cling suddenly felt too cold and his face felt too hot. Stan hadn't been dressed yet. That would give him some time to put some distance between him and his _best_ friend. Time to construct some shitty comment about why he had run off. He was beginning to wonder if he should regret Saturday.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Stan!"

Stan turned to see Wendy jogging towards him as he went to enter the locker room. Perfect timing. He thought he would have to wait for another day to tell her. "Lookin' for me?" he grinned. They had dated on and off for years. It was second nature to flirt with her.

"No, actually I was looking for Kyle," she panted, hands on knees when she came to a stop in front of him.

His mood soured. She had sat with Kyle at lunch, too. It pissed him off more than a little bit. "Why?" he demanded.

Wendy gave him a _look_. "We are doing a project together. I had an idea I wanted to swing by him to…"

"I kissed Kyle Saturday," Stan blurted.

Smooth. What was up with this chick? She had always made him puke; whether it be literal when they were little or metaphorical now. How did she just cause his to spew up things around her? Oh well. He had wanted to tell her, and now she would know he had dibs. Now she would know that she could keep her paws off his best friend thank you very much. To her credit, she did look a little taken aback.

"So…what does that mean for us?" she finally hedged, "Are you dating Kyle now?"

Stan deflated. He had secretly hoped that she would pitch a fit, cause a scene. Demand that he take her back and that they _belonged_ together. Then he could have yelled back equally as loud that it was too late. Kyle was the only one for him and they would be together always and forever. People would have overheard. The school would have known in less than an hour.

Reality hadn't worked out like his imagination had.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. I want to. We haven't really talked about it since his parents caught us on the couch."

"Ah," she agreed, "Kyle told me about that. That's rough."

Stan didn't open his eyes or take his hand away from his face, but he nodded.

"Well," Wendy finally continued, "if it helps, Kyle didn't seem troubled, just irritated that he was grounded. I really think he may like you, too...or at least not be completely against kissing you."

Now Stan's eyes flew open and he gaped at his ex-girlfriend. Her brows were scrunched and her fist seemed to be holding up her chin as she thought. "Does his being grounded mean he won't be able to escort Bebe to homecoming?"

Stan shook his head violently. He was elated to think Kyle wanted to really be with him. Kyle had never shown interest in anyone before. This could be _huge_. "Nah, he said he could still do that. I asked."

Wendy smiled at him for the first time in their conversation and put a hand on his arm. "That's good," she grinned, looking up and into his eyes, "And Stan? Good luck with everything. And you know, if things don't work out you always have me." She winked.

Stan couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at his features. "Thanks Wendy," he murmured, pulling her into a gentle hug, "You're the best."

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and pulled back to see that it was Kyle. His green eyes were huge and his cheeks were red. His loose tank clung to his lithe form. He had stopped dead in his tracks. _Shit_. "Kyle, wait!" he screeched as the redhead tore off in the direction that he had come from.

Stan couldn't stop himself from pulling at his hair in frustration, a trait he had picked up from his best friend. He wouldn't be able to catch up with the guy. He was the fastest player on the team. And Stan still had to change. He glanced helplessly over at his ex. She was grinning wolfishly. "What the fuck is there to smile about?" Stan griped.

"He's totally into you," she replied simply and walked away towards the parking lot of the school.

Well not anymore he wasn't, if he had been before, Stan was sure. Kyle had just witnessed him hugging his _girlfriend_, as Kyle had put it earlier that day. He sullenly wondered if it had been Wendy's plan to sabotage this. She was always sweet to him, but he knew she was possessive in general. To the point of psychotic.

He punched the wall.

_Fuck_ that hurt. He shook his hand as he walked into the locker room to change. He could feel his hand swelling and wondered if he had broken anything. The only ones left in there were Clyde and Butters. And they were leaving. Good. He wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Once they were out of sight he went to the first aid box hanging on the wall and wrapped his hand with an ice pack and gauze. Then he gently opened his locker and changed into his practice jersey, taking care not to use his injured hand. Whoever didn't have weight training last block wore the practice jerseys.

He took a few deep breathes and rested his head in his one good hand for a few moments before deciding that feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help anything. He got up and walked to the edge of the field, looking for the short redhead. He was coming back around from a lap. Good. At least he hadn't done something ridiculous like skip practice.

No. That's what Stan would have done. Kyle was _way_ stronger than he was. And more confident. And more independent. And smarter. And more beautiful.

He made a point of waiting to start laps until he could fall into place beside his best friend. It's what he usually did anyway. He had been told it was hilarious to see them running together. Him galloping like a horse and Kyle sprinting endlessly like some kind of cat. He made the simile's up himself, but he was sure it was accurate.

Kyle passed and Stan started running, pulling easily up next to him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle tried not to pay any attention to his new partner. He had known when he saw Stan come out that running with him would be inevitable. He was already starting his fourth lap around the field and knew he couldn't keep his sprint up for too much longer. So much for putting space between them.

"So Kyle…" the familiar voice that he would not acknowledge said beside him, "were you looking for me?"

Ignore.

"Because I was going to look for you…when I came out here…"

Ignore.

"I wanted…to tell you…that I told…Wendy…"

Stan was running out of extra breath. He just had to ignore the boy for a bit longer before he wouldn't be able to speak at all. Maybe if Stan would shut the fuck up for long enough they could just forget everything that had happened over the last couple of days and things would go back to normal.

"And…she's…cool….with it."

"Ahhhhh!" he shrieked, pulling at his hair and deciding fuck it, he was going for that sprint. The wind was stinging at his eyes, causing them to water. And he just wanted to be away from Stan. Was it supposed to be good news? So she didn't mind that Stan had kissed him. Stan's relationship with Wendy could weather it. Well whoop-de-fuckin'-doo. He closed his eyes as he rounded the corner and went for it. He ran as fast as he possibly could until his throat burned and his lungs hurt. After several seconds he slowed back down and opened his eyes.

Stan was still beside him.

Of course. The taller boy didn't have to run as hard to keep up and he had more stamina at this point. His blue eyes were intense as they focused on the ground in front of him and his mouth was contorted into a severe line. Kyle couldn't help the weird choking noise he emitted at the sight of his best friend's face. He looked away when Stan's head jerked towards him at the noise.

He looked away and wiped his face with his bare arm.

Then Stan tripped him.

Kyle actually watched as the taller boy swiped a leg out and in front of his own. The two boys tumbled to the ground and sideways into the muddy grass. Kyle felt something in his foot pop when he slid. It hurt like hell.

Augh!" he wailed. It didn't hurt _that_ bad, but he wanted Stan to feel bad. Stan was kneeling beside him in the grass, a look of panic on his face as he wiped a spot of mud from his cheek. Good.

"Kyle! Did I hurt you? Fuck Kyle, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" his friend choked. His hands were hovering ineffectually above him; Stan didn't seem to know what he should treat first. It wasn't until he finally peered at the foot and touched it that Kyle lashed out.

"Get the fuck off me, Marsh!" he yelled, rolling over and trying to stand on the injured foot. It took him a moment to find grip in the soggy mess. Stan backed away in shock at the address, but shot out and caught him as he crumpled from the pain of the pressure in his foot. Without preamble, he was swooped up into Stan's arms and carried across the field, protests ignored.

"What the fuck, Stan? Put me down! You're the one who tripped me! Put me the fuck down! God you're such an asshole! Put me down _right now_!"

He didn't stop shouting his demands and insults until they were within earshot of the coach, who was giving them a curious look. "Coach, Kyle tripped. I'm going to take him to bandage his foot," Stan reported, giving the coach a curt nod before turning around and heading towards the locker room. Kyle thought about flailing, but decided against it. He would just look silly.

He settled into a stony silence until Stan sat him gently down on a bench near the first aid kit in the locker room. Then he huffed and crossed his arms and turned pointedly away from the other boy.

"Dude, you weight like ten pounds. It's kinda funny."

Ignore.

"I'm gonna take your shoe off and look at your foot, okay?"

Ignore.

Kyle continued looking in any direction but Stan's while he removed his shoe and sock, looking at the purpling foot. "Nothing's out of shape. Just a bruise. Probably just landed on it…I'll get you an ice pack."

Ignore.

Ice was pressed against his neck. "Argh!" he screamed, jerking his head around angrily to glare at Stan, who couldn't hide his smirk.

"Better," he conceded at Kyle's scowling face as he repositioned the ice pack to Kyle's bruised foot, "so now I can continue the conversation I was trying to start before you had to go and inconveniently land on your foot."

"You tripped me!" Kyle shrieked, "It wasn't _my_ fucking fault I got hurt!"

"You ran off like an idiot when you saw me hug Wendy," Stan replied.

Kyle crossed his arms again and glared down at the dirty concrete floor. His eyes stung. "Oh yeah, _sorry_ to interrupt," he muttered. He heard the sharp sound of Stan smacking a hand to his forehead. Sweat had plastered his dark head to the top of his head already.

"Kyle you are such a fucking retard!" Stan whined. The insult cause Kyle to glance up in irritation. Stan's eyes were bright and wide and serious and very blue, and very, very close to his own. His hands were on his shoulders like he wanted to shake the smaller boy. "I told Wendy about Saturday and she was happy for me…for us. She thinks we'd make a great couple."

Kyle felt his heart speed up but his eyes easily matched the intensity of Stan's. He looked away and tried to sound unconcerned when he finally spoke to the hands that were now worrying themselves in his lap. "You want us to be a couple?" he murmured roughly. Despite his enormous effort to control his voice, he couldn't control his face when it heated up. The hands on his shoulders squeezed.

"Yes you idiot."

Stan's answer was immediate a fervent.

But Kyle was still pissed off, so he didn't answer immediately. "What about you and Wendy?" he asked.

Stan grinned and shrugged, "Dude, fuck Wendy."

"You better not." Okay, so that wasn't how he wanted to agree. But it seemed to work for Stan. Kyle looked up to see his eyes had brightened with a different kind of light and he grinned like an idiot.

Then they were kissing. Stan pulled him roughly up into his lap and crushed him to his body, grabbing a handful of hair and jerking his head up to connect with his. Kyle readily complied with the kiss, wrapping his own arms around Stan's torso and pulling him even closer. Stan groaned and gently laid back across the bench, pulling Kyle to straddle him.

When Stan broke away Kyle let him trail kisses across his face before Stan jerked his head to the side with the handful of hair, allowing better access to his neck. He made a surprised noise when Stan bit down. The noise earned a rush of breath across the same spot on his neck and he pulled away to kiss Stan again before deciding they better stop. It was still the middle of practice.

It took a few minutes for the two boys to calm down. Short bursts of giggles erupted from Stan and Kyle watched a drop of water run down the side of his best friend's, no, boyfriend's face from his eye. "Dude, you're such a fag," Kyle whispered.

"Ha!" Stan barked back, "Says the ten pound boy!"

Kyle punched him in the side. "Come on, we need to get back to practice. I think my foot feels better. I'm gonna try to walk on it again." Stan obliged him and let Kyle get up, hovering like a mother hen again when he stood to test his balance. When they were sure that Kyle could walk they both exited the locker room to continue practice.

_Hmmm, so this is turning out to be waaaay longer than I originally intended. I can't believe I have more plans for this story. It just keeps growing! It _is_ a lot of work, so if you like it then let me know through a review and I will continue. ;D_

_Also, I have to give credit to the band _Mumford and Sons_. I listen to their CD on repeat while I write. It keeps me focused. That is also where I came up with the title and chapter titles, though I do not plan to include the songs or lyrics, they just keep me inspired. _

_I cannot promise that I will ever completely finish what is in my head, but I do solemnly swear to end each chapter in a way that allows it to appear like the story could be complete. I will not leave on any terrible cliffhangers or anything like that simply because I am the world's worst about actually finishing stories. So I will never label my story as "in progress". It has the potential to always be complete…unless I grow a wild hair and add a chapter._

_I know that sucks and I am sorry._


	3. Little Lion Man

_Oh. My. Gawd. The "You're Getting Old" episode has Fucked. Me. Up. My precious boys, what is to become of you! Granted that was a super funny episode, it still left me feeling a little sick. Then I had South Park nightmares. I'm such a dork. _

_Then my husband took a week off of work for vacation. I have to say, him being around is not conducive to writing slash. lol _

_**Summary:**__ Stan's thrown off balance when he accidentally comes out to his parents. Meanwhile, Kyle's parents just wish he'd show interest in anyone._

_**Note:**__ This story is about Stan and Kyle. They are the focus so I will not spend _as much_ time with other characters._

_**Rated:**__**T**__ for swearing and __**extreme**__ sensuality. __**This chapter is borderline M**__. I will not change the rating to M, though. If I do include M rated stuff I will clearly label it at the beginning of the chapter. You have been warned. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own South Park or its characters. Matt and Tray do, God bless them. I make no money, it's all just for fun. _

_**Warning:**__ Contains slash. You have been warned._

By the end of practice Kyle was visibly limping again. Stan could tell that the smaller boy was trying to hide his discomfort, but the barely there grimace and the hint of favoring his uninjured foot gave him away. It made Stan felt like shit. Knowing that Kyle was hiding it to spare his worry made him feel a little _lower_ than shit.

As the team jogged to the locker room after practice Stan held back to walk with his limping…boyfriend. That particular thought caused his heart to race at an uncomfortable pace. He pulled his hands up to rest on the top of his head in a practiced manner as he walked next to the redhead. It was one of the first things they had been taught when first entering any sports team. Hands on the head keeps the blood flowing at a healthy rate.

Stan risked a worried sideways glance. Kyle was doing the half grimace thing again and obviously trying to walk on his bruised foot. "You okay?" he slipped into the silence. The grimace turned into a scowl.

"Peachy," Kyle ground out. Great, he was pissed off again. Stan wished his emotions were stable enough to be frustrated with the boy, but he was still wallowing in euphoria. He probably would be for a while. "What'dya do to your hand?"

The question brought him back. He looked down to his wrapped hand and he shrugged. "I punched a wall," he said, realizing as soon as the words left his mouth how stupid that sounded. He wondered if he should be happy that Kyle showed concern or pissed that he _just now_ noticed. Well, it _had_ been an intense sort of day. The boy beside him snorted.

"You are such a retard."

"Who's the bigger retard; the retard or the retard dating the retard?" Yep, Stan went there. He held his breath, waiting for a sign of discomfort or regret.

"Touché."

The taller boy visibly exhaled as the pair finally entered the locker room. Boys were wondering around in various states of undress, some showering, some packing up to go home already. Stan sidestepped a naked Tolken and made his way to his locker before the limping Kyle. He opened both his and his friend's next to his and grabbed his school clothes.

"We showering before I take you home?" Stan asked as the smaller boy finally appeared at his side. A ginger eyebrow arched.

"Dude, I'm grounded. You can't come home with me."

Stan huffed, "I know, midget. But I'm not letting you walk home by yourself on that foot. I'm kinda responsible for that." He was afraid of his self-control if Kyle said what he thought he was going to say in reply.

"Dude, it's not that bad."

Yep. That. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just shut up." He slammed his locker door closed and began stripping. No shower today. He would just go home and do it. He could relieve frustration that way. When he was done he looked over to see a shirtless Kyle sitting on the bench trying to gingerly extract his shoes so he could change into his pants. His cheeks were steadily tinting. Stan started to wonder if he was wrong about it just being bruised. Without thought he dipped down and swatted the other boy's hands away. "You're going to make it worse," he griped.

He ignored Kyle's mumbling complaints as he completely loosened the laces of the boy's cleats before gently removing the shoe, then the sock. His foot was violently purple and swelling now. The boys stared accusingly at each other. Stan poked the foot. "Ow, fuck you dickhole!" Kyle yelled.

"I'm walking home with you." It was not a question or suggestion. If Kyle said no it would make no difference. He would walk next to him anyway. It was a free country. He could walk wherever he wanted. He grabbed the bottom of Kyle's shorts and yanked. An outraged screech was muffled when he threw Kyle's pants at his face.

Ten minutes later they were exiting the school grounds and turning down the road in stony silence. Stan had offered to carry Kyle's messenger bag, but the boy had refused. The thumping sound it made every time it swung and made contact with Kyle's hip because he was limping so bad pissed Stan off a little more each time he heard the offending noise.

Twenty-four thumps sounded before Stan whirled angrily around to his…boyfriend. "For Christ's sake, stop being such a prissy bitch and give me that goddamn bag!" he yelled, grabbing the strap and yanking it off the other boy's shoulder. Kyle glared at him as he jerked the strap over his dark head, turned, and continued walking.

Now the walk was no less stony, but much quieter. It calmed Stan somewhat. Now he could think. He wanted to get Kyle out of his bad mood and he didn't have long to do it. "You still mad at me for tripping you?" he asked.

Kyle huffed. "No, but I am pissed that you're over-reacting _again_. Just cause' I'm littler than you doesn't mean you have to _protect_ me." Sharp green eyes glared up into Stan's as if searching for a response, "I'm not a girl."

Stan snorted, "No shit." He could feel his cheeks warm up and he grinned. Kyle relaxed and grinned back. "But you know," Stan continued, "Wendy definitely does _not_ need my protection."

Kyle shrugged. "Yeah, that was kinda an assholeish thing of me to say, but you _know_ what I mean."

Stan did know. The problem was that he was going to be dramatic and over-reactive no matter what. It was just the way he was. He thought about the multiple times Kyle had been in the hospital. Those were never good times. He didn't like hospitals in the best of times, when Kyle was there it was just worse.

Kyle's house loomed near now, they were on his street. "You think we should tell everyone we're dating tomorrow?" he finally asked. He was tired of fighting the same old fight and _really_ wanted talk about all this new shit. The awesome shit.

"Nah," Kyle replied, making Stan's heart drop before continuing, "No one _announces_ that they're dating. People'll figure it out. People always do."

Stan thought about it. It was true. You always knew who was dating by seeing them…and gossip. Stan knew he could get some gossip started. Eric was on the school newspaper staff and they had a class together.

They stopped in front of Kyle's house. Stan took the bag from his shoulder and carefully placed it back over Kyle's head. "This is as far as I dare go. Your mother is a scary woman," he smiled as he adjusted the strap, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Wait here and I'll drive you. We need to make sure you can play Friday."

Kyle was looking down at his bag and fiddling with the strap himself. "…Yeah," he mumbled before looking up at Stan, who was already straightening back up and ready to walk home himself. "Hey Stan?" The taller boy looked over expectantly. He wondered what Kyle wanted. They wouldn't even be able to talk until tomorrow. To his surprise Kyle yanked his sleeve and brought him back down to his level, kissing him on the cheek.

Stan felt his eyes widen in surprise, but couldn't help grinning like a fool at his…boyfriend. Kyle looked flustered and adorable, cheeks pink and eyes darting towards the windows of his house. "Well, see you tomorrow," he muttered and practically ran to the door in a wobbly hobble, slamming the door shut behind him.

Stan's shit-eating grin remained as he locked his hands behind his head and began walking towards his own house.

"Hey Stan! What's got you so happy?"

Stan turned towards the voice and calmed his grin a little. He probably looked like a complete dork. "Hey Kenny!" he called back as his friend jogged up next to him, "Bit of new shit's going down…"

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle's chest heaved as he drug himself down the door to his bedroom. Fuck this dating shit was hard. No wonder he had steered clear so far. How could Stan function for so long with dating Wendy?

His heart was hammering and his breath was ragged and uneven. He couldn't seem to stop blushing like a total fag and his palms felt a little sweaty in his gloves. He'd only kissed the guy on the cheek for fuck's sake. Maybe it was good that he was grounded. It would give him time to acclimate to his new _condition_.

Great, now it sounded like he had a disease. _Sorry mom, I have the Gay for my Best Friend. I think I need to stay home from school tomorrow. Wouldn't want it to spread_…Sure.

Kyle wanted to be hateful and pissed off at Stan for even starting this. He could have just glided along in oblivious ignorance forever if Stan hadn't fucking kissed him Saturday. But the crazy thing about it was Kyle _wasn't_ pissed off. Anxious, yes, pissed off, no. Kissing Stan felt really good. It made him feel almost high.

The truth of the matter was that he was way out of his league. He didn't know anything about dating and romance. Especially with a guy. Hell, the one girl he had tried to romance turned into a major slut. Stan wasn't a slut. Kyle was pretty sure his, erm, boyfriend hadn't ever even had sex with Wendy even though they had been together basically forever. He was pretty sure Stan would have told him if he had. Still, it seemed prudent to ask.

And then he realized he was thinking about Stan having sex and his face caught on fire. He'd been dating the guy for like an hour and he was already thinking about stuff like that? Was that normal? Was he a pervert? He needed to do some research.

Two hours later he was hyperventilating. A simple Google search had told him everything from how homosexuality was a sin of god and that he would burn in hell forever to scientific studies of its existence in nature to statistics and people finding websites. It was all a mess. So he had narrowed down the search to dating procedures. It had been less than helpful as well. And there was _nothing_ on how to date your best friend. Then he had Googled sex. He had reasoned that it probably would be a good idea to know details; there had to be more to it than simply 'insert into ass'.

And now he was hyperventilating. What was _wrong_ with these people? How had he ended up on a porn website? A hardcore porn website. He clicked off completely and wiped his face on his sleeve. He would just have to follow Stan's lead and sex was _out_.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah don't touch me!" he shrieked, then saw it was Ike. Ike was giving him a look.

"There's a girl here for you," his Canadian brother said, "Didn't know you even _knew_ girls…" The tween turned to leave.

Kyle was about to quip back an insult, but his brother's news sank in. "Wait, I'm grounded. I thought I wasn't allowed to have people over?" he asked irritably, standing to follow his brother. Ike shrugged.

"Mom said you just couldn't have Stan over," Ike turned back, causing Kyle to nearly collide with him, "What did you do? She wouldn't tell me."

Fuck if he was going to tell his little brother. Especially if his mom hadn't told. "Nothing for you to know, now go on. I don't even know who could be here for me."

Kyle was surprised to see Wendy waiting patiently for him in the living room. He pushed his glasses up his face and greeted her with a suspicious look. Her arms were full of books and videos and paper. "I thought since Stan won't be bothering us for a while we could just work our asses off and finish our project this week," her feminine voice suggested. She put the stuff down on the coffee table and tucked a long strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You know, have it ready for next Friday and not have to worry."

Seemed logical, if not a little suspicious. Wendy _never_ visited him at his house. Their friendship was entirely based around Stan and when they rarely had to work together in school she always demanded that they go somewhere public. He voiced his concern, "Why did you come over?"

Wendy gave him an exasperated glance. "You're grounded, dummy. I figured you couldn't go anywhere." Kyle bristled at her insult. It was okay when Stan called him dumb. He knew Stan didn't really mean it. But Wendy…

She did have a point, though. And it would keep the agonizing boredom at bay. It probably wouldn't hurt for his parents to see him interacting with others, especially girls, anyway. "Okay, where do you want to start?"

A predatory glint came to the young woman's dark eyes. "The kiss scene definitely. It's the most important and will be the most dramatic in class."

Ugh.

He had been worried that they were going to have to practice, but instead the two stayed up late into the evening watching different versions on film and reading analyzations of the scene in books Wendy had brought and taking notes. It was a small miracle that Wendy didn't suggest practicing it. When she finally left Kyle took a long overdue shower and went to his room to go to bed. He'd do his calculus homework during lunch tomorrow.

There was a note taped to his window from the outside.

_Did you know that FDR was a _

_helluva poker player? I bet you _

_could give him a run for his money, _

_though. You _still_ surprise me in _

_so many ways._

Kyle did, in fact, know this fact about FDR. What he did not know was why Stan had taken the time to scribble this on an index card and tape it to his bedroom window. He walked over to his window and opened it. There was a dandelion on the sill, too. It had to be one of the first of the season.

"Fag," Kyle muttered with a shy smile, taking the flower and note and setting them by his bed, then returned to the window to close it again. The nights were still too cold to keep them open. He put his glasses on the table, making sure not to crowd the other two objects before turning the light off to go to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tuesday's note read:

_Swans mate for life. Like soul _

_mates or something. Do you think _

_people can be like that? Like stick _

_together their whole lives? No _

_matter what…_

XXXXXXXXXX

Wednesday's said:

_I read that colors can be symbolic_

_and used in psychology. Green _

_symbolizes durability, optimism,_

_and honesty. Blue symbolizes _

_peace, loyalty, and honor. Can _

_you imagine what those two colors _

_together could be? Sometimes I _

_think I can._

XXXXXXXXXX

Thursday it was:

_If you walk 20 miles a day it would _

_take six months to walk across the_

_country. No sweat…if you were_

_waiting for me. _

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan had been looking forward to homecoming ever since he had learned the date. It always made him feel manly to walk proudly out onto the field at halftime, always sweaty and covered in mud, with Wendy looking like a princess or a bride on his arm. There was just something about the juxtaposition of their appearances that turned him on.

Tonight, however, he just felt like this week, this moment, would never be over. He felt unstable and jittery. They were winning my such a large margin that most of the spectators from the other team had already gone home. It was almost a shame. There would be no close calls or last minute power plays. No, the South Park Bulls were just gliding along until the time ran out. Stan should have been pumping himself up for the homecoming event and proud of their lead.

Instead he just kept glancing over at his boyfriend. Kyle was trying to clean himself up a little before walking out with Bebe. They had been dating for almost a week and he felt like he was stagnating. When he had talked to Kenny on Monday his friend had warned him about being too forward. He had also been warned that he couldn't treat the new relationship like he had with Wendy. This was, Kenny had said, totally different.

Right.

So Stan had spent the week _not_ being forward, whatever the hell that meant, and treating the relationship as if he were with, well, Kyle. Needless to say not much changed. They did hold hands when they walked to school together. Kyle's foot had completely healed by Wednesday. Though it still looked terrible, even tonight, it didn't hurt him at all. It had been a decent week. It proved that nothing terrible had changed between them.

It also hadn't been enough in Stan's opinion. He couldn't help leaving the notes on Kyle's window in the evenings. He would have texted him, but that was out and he had to do _something_. He was a romantic at heart. He needed an outlet. Kyle never mentioned the notes. He wasn't sure if he was glad about that or not. On the one hand he didn't receive recognition, but on the other they obviously didn't bother Kyle.

What _did_ bother Stan was that Wendy had been to Kyle's house every day that week. Coincidence? He didn't think so. Wendy had been way too pleasant to the two of them. And that was what was bothering him right now. He was about to escort his ex-girlfriend for homecoming while the object of his undying devotion escorted an equally beautiful girl. They would be introduced together and judged as couples. And Wendy was up to something.

But now it was time to walk the walk.

The couples converged and lined up in their appropriate positions. Kyle and Bebe were first. Kyle, being the shortest person on the team, always stood at the outside of a line-up. It kept his height from being so noticeable. Bebe wasn't much taller than him, and Stan noticed that she wore a dazzling ball gown that accentuated both her curvy form and Kyle's dazzling eyes. It probably wasn't something everyone would notice, but Stan did. And Bebe was obviously paying enough attention to Kyle to get a dress that matched his eyes.

It didn't help that her long golden hair clung elegantly to her bare back and her blue eyes sparkled when Kyle greeted her like a gentleman. Stan growled when she leaned over with a smile and whispered something in _his_ boyfriend's ear that made him blush beautifully. He decided to look away before he broke his moral code and went and punched her in the face.

His eyes turned to Wendy. She was the opposite of Bebe with huge dark eyes and a messy up-do. Her midnight gown clung to every curve and the thin straps holding the dress up made her skin shockingly pale in comparison. Stan's mouth went dry and he decided that looking forward was best. How had he been looking forward to this?

When the first couple's names were called he couldn't help but see Bebe's gentle smack to Kyle's ass to get the boy going. Stan bit his tongue to keep from yelling curses at her. He grudgingly had to give her credit for balls, but the rage fuelled him through the entire announcements and ceremony.

He and Wendy won. They usually did, and Wendy planted a friendly kiss to his cheek when they did. It was the same side as Kyle's kiss had been Monday and it burned. Stan had to keep himself from flinching. It was actually kind of embarrassing. It wasn't like he was disgusted by her. Quite the opposite. But he didn't trust her. Never had and probably never would.

It wasn't until the game was over that he actually began to relax. Tomorrow was Saturday. Kyle wouldn't be grounded anymore. Maybe they could go on their first date. It was overdue.

They were both showered and dressing before he could work up the nerve to ask. "So…" he drawled, waiting on Kyle to get his shirt over his head, "your sentence is up tomorrow?"

Popping his head through his shirt, Kyle nodded idly, "Yeah, you comin' over in the morning?"

Stan wasn't sure if Kyle made everything way easier or way harder. "Yeah if you want me…"

Kyle stood up from tying his shoes, standing a bit taller than Stan's height sitting. It was odd to look up at Kyle. "Yeah," he breathed, "I do."

Yep. Kyle was definitely making things _harder_ right now. Stan wanted to jump him right there. Instead he nodded dumbly and quickly averted his eyes to his own shoelaces. "I'll uh," he cleared his throat. It sounded too gravelly. "I'll be there in the morning then. You better warn your mom. And make something to eat like a good wife," he joked. He got punched in the arm.

"Fuck you."

Breath in. Breath out. Stan worked up a smirk and looked up from his shoes. "Whatever you want, darlin'." He winked.

Kyle blushed and turned away, waving an arm over his head as he practically sprinted to the door. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, fag."

Stan laughed at his boyfriend's retreating back, and it felt like all the anxiety from the past week was melting away. Until he remembered he was going out to eat with some of the team and the girls. He sighed. The night wasn't over yet.

He really just wanted it to be tomorrow.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kyle was surprised when he woke up late Saturday morning. Sure, he had stayed up pretty late doing _all_ of his homework for the next week so that his mom wouldn't have any excuse to disallow Stan's visit. He had also had trouble actually _going_ to sleep when he focused on Stan's parting comment from last night.

He knew Stan was joking, but the comment had elicited several mixed emotions within him. Anxiety and excitement being two. He didn't think he would survive sex with Stan, but _fuck_ did he want to crawl all over him at the same time. He had actually calmed down significantly over the week when it became obvious that Stan wouldn't demand anything from him that he wasn't ready to give.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and turned over to see the clock. It glared angrily at him. 10:19 am. He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom in a panic where he pissed, brushed his teeth, and washed his face in record time. Stan was going to be _pissed_. The guy had been practically antsy all week and now he probably thought Kyle was blowing him off on their first day together outside of school. Stan was such a drama queen.

Kyle returned to his bedroom to throw some pajama pants on. He wouldn't have his cell phone until his mom woke up. He ran down the stairs to use the phone in the kitchen.

Stan was watching _Terrance and Phillip_ in the living room. He turned when he heard Kyle stomping down the stairs. "Morning, dude," he waved, palming a familiar device, "You can use this instead of using the kitchen phone to call me and beg for mercy."

Kyle snatched his phone from the other boy's hand when he came near. He would have wanted to punch him if he hadn't been so relieved to see Stan. "How did you get this?" he asked instead, plopping down next to him on the couch. Terrance and Phillip were laughing manically from the TV.

Stan shrugged. "Your mom gave it to me when she went out. She told me I could stay if I waited down here for you." At this the dark headed boy looked through his bangs around the room, as if looking for anyone who might be listening to their conversation before leaning in towards Kyle in a conspiratory fashion. "I think your mom is afraid I'll rape you or something," he mock whispered.

Kyle snorted. That seemed very Sheila Broflovski. Telling a person to wait downstairs so that they couldn't attack him in his sleep, then going out with a _promise_ that they wouldn't. At least it was Stan so it would be okay if…

No. It wouldn't.

"I wanna show you something," he blurted. He didn't want to think about too much too fast and he really wanted to get out of the house. It had been a week after all. And school so didn't count. "I was gonna show you last Saturday, but it rained. Have you eaten?"

Stan shook his head reluctantly. He looked intrigued and didn't seem to want to waste time with breakfast. Well tough. Kyle was hungry. They both ate a bowl of cereal, Kyle deflecting all questions with practiced ease and suffering through the whining, before he ran upstairs to put real clothes on. He returned shortly in jeans and an old dark green t-shirt.

Both boys put their boots on and snuck out the door. They could hear Ike waking up upstairs and didn't want to risk him tagging along. Once they were safely out of ear shot Stan's questions started back up with a vengeance.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Why are we going into the woods. There's s-snakes in the woods."

"Don't worry princess, I'll protect you."

"Fuck you. I thought you wanted to show me something."

"I do. Jesus, hurry up."

"Slow down douche bag, your tiny body can move faster through the woods."

"Shut the fuck up. We're almost there."

And not a moment too soon. One more comment and Kyle was going to sock his _boyfriend_. He did the gentlemanly thing and held the last of the braches out of the taller boy's way. As soon as he stumbled through Stan straightened up and his jaw dropped.

The two looked at the cave face; one with pride, the other in shock. "What is this?" Stan asked as he peered at the old couch on one side of the interior.

"Me and Kenny have named it The Bachelor Pad. The couch was from his bedroom. We found the rug rolled up in his back yard, oh, and the crate holding the radio, too. I got the radio from my basement. It runs on batteries. There's an old generator in the basement, too, but it's broken. Me and Kenny thought you might be able to take a look at it. If you fix it we might be able to get a TV up here during the summer." Kyle finally took a breath and let the other boy take everything in.

Stan just stood and gaped. "This is freakin' amazing dude!" he said, back turned to the redhead. "Just one problem…"

Kyle's brows furrowed. What was wrong with it? "What?"

Stan turned, grinning. "We're not bachelors."

Kyle felt his heart start back up and rage fill his veins. He picked up a rock and threw it at the other boy. "Fuck you. I thought you didn't like it!"

Stan rubbed his chest where the rock had met its mark, but much to Kyle's dismay he didn't look very remorseful. In fact, his grin just widened. The grin froze Kyle in place as the taller boy sauntered over to him. First Stan took his hand, then pulled him in by his arm, and finally enveloped him in his arms. Kyle's head fell just below Stan's head and he could hear the strong heartbeat.

One of the arms around him loosened its grasp enough to pull him away just enough to let him meet Stan's eyes. "I love it," the dark headed boy whispered intensely. Kyle wondered if this was how deer felt when they looked into headlights. Then the moment seemed to be over. Stan let him go, both physically and with his bright blue eyes. "So you gonna give me the grand tour or what?" he asked.

Kyle nodded even though Stan wasn't looking at him anymore. He watched the other boy as he planted himself onto the old couch, sprawling his long legs across the carpet. His jeans were an old pair that had torn many times and Kyle could barely look away from the skin beneath the holes. He carefully sat down beside him, not close enough to force physical contact, but still close enough to allow its potential.

"Well," he began, testing his voice, "there's not much to tell. Me and Kenny found it a couple weeks ago and decided to bring some stuff up here. We just finished it last weekend and I was gonna show you, but it rained."

Stan nodded, looking around more fully from the comfort of the aging couch. "And the radio works?" he asked when his eyes finally fell upon the device.

Kyle nodded, then noticed that Stan wasn't looking at him again. "Yeah, but it doesn't pick up any good rap stations," he explained with a pout, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Stan smirked again and returned his attention to Kyle. "What a fuckin' shame," he grinned.

Kyle bristled. Stan may not enjoy all of the finer details of a good dirty rap song, but he did. There was something deep and spiritual about the strong beat and chanting words. And he could dance to it. That helped. Stan kept a rap station on call in his truck, but Kyle knew when he wasn't there Stan listened to folk rock and classic rock. At least it wasn't country music.

The object of his thoughts got up from the couch and walked over to the radio, turning it on and tuning it. After several seconds he found a station; it was classic rock. Typical. Stan turned towards him and smiled sheepishly. "I know it's not your usual stuff, but at least it comes in?"

Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed, "Get the fuck over here rockabilly."

The taller boy's smile changed to a confident one and he virtually scrambled back to Kyle's side. When he sat down he didn't put up any pretense of indifference. Kyle felt his face heat when Stan practically curled onto his lap and bury his face into the redhead's neck.

XXXXXXXXXX

Stan basked in the feel of Kyle against him. He had been a little disappointed when Kyle started leading him into the woods. He had wanted to go on a date and had been too much of a pussy to voice his desire. Then Kyle had shown him this place.

And it was epic.

He would fix that generator if it was the last thing he ever did, just to make Kyle smile. He inhaled the familiar scent of his boyfriend's skin and felt a pang of concern when he thought about how far gone he was. This was all completely new to the other boy. "Kyle," he muttered through the neck he was pressed against, "how long do you think it takes to fall in love?"

It really wasn't a question for him. He was already all the way there and saving a seat. He wanted to know what Kyle thought. It didn't seem positive when he felt the smaller body tense around him. "I…I don't know," he replied, "I guess it depends on the kind of love and the people…"

Stan exhaled and physically wilted. The clinical response was about as negative as it could be without actually hurting his feelings. "Oh," he breathed. Around him, Kyle shifted.

"But…" Kyle continued. He voice rumbled through his chest and shoulder and against Stan's ear. "If two people knew each other for a long time and were friends before…it might not take so long…maybe no time at all…" Stan felt Kyle's arms tighten around him.

Yep. Magical. That guy.

Stan felt euphoria rush over him when Kyle's hands began rubbing circles in his back and finally through his hair. He couldn't help but look up. He was practically laying in the guy's lap. Green eyes were lazily looking over him. It took a moment before their eyes met fully. His breath caught when Kyle smiled at him.

Stan's arms worked on their own accord, gently grasping Kyle's head to pull down to his. The smaller boy grunted and had to adjust himself to an easier angle before their lips finally met. Stan kissed him lazily, gently feeling the texture and pressure of Kyle's lips on his own, before snaking his tongue out languidly to taste the other boy. His lips were still a little sweet from breakfast. It was perfect.

His heart picked up considerably when Kyle's tongue joined his own and they took some time just tasting each other; neither ready to enter the other's mouth, but not wanting to stop either. They continued for several minutes just tasting before Kyle finally probed his tongue into Stan's mouth. The tongue was cooler than normal and it added a jolt of pleasure. It slicked over his teeth before venturing further inside.

Stan moaned and clenched his fists into Kyle's t-shirt. He was way too fucking turned on right now. He parted from the other boy with great difficulty. "Kye," he panted. He felt flushed and sweaty. It wasn't warm out, but it really didn't matter. He was burning up. "Do you…are you really attracted to me?" he asked.

The redhead blushed deeper than he already was, "I'm dating you aren't I?"

Stan held on harder to the boy so he couldn't pull away. Before they did anything they might regret he _had_ to know. "Yeah, but this isn't like an experiment or life experience or anything, right?" His fears that Kyle might want to leave were unjustified because his grip also tightened around Stan.

"No. I mean, I'm kind of winging it right now…but…I've never…you know…" Stan watched Kyle flounder for words and became even more turned on than he had been before. "…wanted to kiss anyone like I do you…or…touch anyone like I want to touch you…" If hearts could explode Stan's would have. It was hammering sporadically as he gazed at Kyle's beet red face.

To keep from announcing his undying, intense, and passionate love for his best friend, Stan jerked his head upwards to catch Kyle's mouth again. It was just so fucking awesome. He moaned again when Kyle's tongue entered his mouth again. It roved more recklessly this time like it was his goal for Stan to actually swallow his tongue.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Stan brought his hands up to the other boy's hips and pulled him on top of his body, so that the redhead and straddling him on the couch. Kyle broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Stan's, breathing heavily, when his ass settled over Stan's hard-on. Stan couldn't help but peek down to see if Kyle was similarly troubled.

He was.

Damn, the midget was pretty well off for his size. Stan couldn't help but feel a little proud. And a lot turned on. "Kyle," he whispered, "tell me if you ever want me to stop anything, okay? It will always be okay."

Above him the redhead gulped and nodded, eyes closed. Slowly, so that he knew his intentions, Stan moved one palm towards the bulge in his boyfriend's pants, stopping only when it was firmly covering the most obvious area. Kyle let out a breathy moan and dug his face into Stan's neck. Taking the noise as consent, Stan carefully began to slowly rub the hard mound under his palm.

"Fuck," his favorite voice ground out from his neck. He almost couldn't take it when a tongue darted out from the mouth and began sucking at his skin. He nearly lost it when, whether uncontrolled or intentional, Kyle began grinding himself into Stan's hand for more contact. The thrusts were roughly rubbing Stan's own erection and he muffled a loud groan.

"Fuck Kyle, I'm not gonna last long with your ass doing that," he gulped. He had never been so turned on in his life. This was the thing heart attacks and strokes were made of. He had never been ready to take the final step with Wendy in all the years that they dated, but here, a week after forming a new relationship with Kyle, and an hour of spending time alone with him, all he wanted was to fuck Kyle, or be fucked.

It didn't help that the earlier threat only served as a promise to the boy above him, because he immediately began grinding against him with almost painful force. "Touch me, Stan," he groaned, "Will you touch me?"

Stan didn't bother with a verbal agreement to the request. He fumbled with urgency he had never felt with the button sealing Kyle's jeans, finally getting it ripped open. The force cause the zipper to pull dull down of its own accord. Blue striped boxers offered little resistance to his shaking grasp.

He was laying fully over the couch now with Kyle on top of him and looking down, hard-on open to the elements. He brought his hand up to his mouth and gave his palm a wet lick, then grasped Kyle's erection. When the redhead threw his head back and moaned into the air, Stan was pretty sure he had just witnessed the most beautiful thing in the world ever. He almost felt a pang of pity for the rest of the world for missing it.

He squeezed as hard as he dared and began to pump his fist in time with Kyle's breathing. The grinding began to match his pumping and he had to bite his lip in concentration. He didn't want to come yet. Not with Kyle like this. But goddamn if it wasn't fucking difficult to hold back.

He ran his thumb over the head to catch the bead of precum that was forming before adding it to the rest of the lubricant he had provided.

"Mmnnggh…" Kyle ground his teeth together and looked like he was in pain. It was sexy as hell. "Stan…I'm gonna…_fuck_!" The hot wet liquid shot out and landed on Stan's shirt, before the rest of it dribbled down his fist.

And that was all it took.

Stan saw stars as he came on himself. It would have been embarrassing if it weren't the most fucking fantastic orgasm he had ever had. And Kyle hadn't even really touched him. Fuck he was in trouble.

Kyle was slumped over him now, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his face. He felt the redhead slip his boxers back up and button his jeans back before sitting up fully again. There was no point trying to clean up. There was nothing to clean up with. Stan's shirt was ruined. He flushed to think about potentially meeting someone on their way back to the house.

"Wow," he breathed into the silence, "That was amazing…"

Kyle rolled off him and let him sit up comfortably again. "Yeah, but I didn't even do anything for you…" he mumbled, looking focused at his shoes and trying to rub the blush from his cheeks.

Stan couldn't help a bark of laughter, "Trust me, dude, you did."

After a few moments to gather their wits, the two stood up from the couch and turned off the radio. They may have only eaten an hour ago, but they both felt ready for lunch…and maybe an afternoon nap before Stan went to work.

Kyle suggested a movie they could veg out to as they walked down the hidden path in the woods. Stan agreed, then turned his attention to a pressing matter. "Kyle," he finally asked as they came out to the road in sight of Kyle's house. For good measure he took up the redhead's hand and held it. "Will you go to prom with me…as my date?" he asked.

Kyle grinned foolishly at him. "Sure thing, but you're wearing the dress."

_My God this took me forever to think through. I wrote huge sections of plot that I hated when I went back to read, then deleted, then rewrote. Ugh. And then I get to the last bit and it spills out of my brain effortlessly like so much toxic waste. I am a sick, sick individual. _

_I hope the skipping forward in time technique worked without confusing folks. I wasn't going to get anywhere if I focused on each and every day. I really just wanted to focus on Saturday. Like I said, Style-centric. Also, once again I didn't read over this chapter too closely. It's late for me. Let me know if there are any major flaws._

_Well I hope you like this chapter. I have one more in me I think if people like this enough to review….;)_

_I'm terrible…_


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